


Creatures of the Night

by TheMonsterInsideOfMe



Category: Father Brown (2013)
Genre: AU, Animagus, Father Brown - Freeform, Gen, animagus au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 19:51:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12942489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMonsterInsideOfMe/pseuds/TheMonsterInsideOfMe
Summary: The stars of the show with a little magical flare; a Father Brown Animagi AU! A little snapshot into the group's lives as animagus.





	Creatures of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've ever posted on here! This is kind of inspired by "A Purrrrfect Double" by AllKindsofThings, it's a lovely idea and fic and I highly recommend. I just took the animagus idea and expanded it into my own. Thank you for reading this and I hope you enjoy it!!!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Father Brown and Harry Potter and I make nothing from this piece of writing.

The summer nights were rolling to their end and Kembleford was winding down towards the autumn. Father Brown stared wistfully out his window, feeling the slight, warm breeze drift through. He had finally finished writing his homily and was pleased with his work. He felt a small celebration was in order, and carefully unlocked the bottom draw of his desk, removed the long black box and delicately picked up his wand. Alder and unicorn hair, 11 inches. He still remembered the day he got it, with his father, shopping for Hogwarts things. That was a different time and he was a different person. He learnt so much, but still wanted to know more. And even at Hogwarts he discovered that not even magic has the answers to everything, so what could? He soon found his answer in God. How could something as great and powerful as magic have simply appeared? The logical answer was an even greater and powerful being had made it, and he followed this idea, and vowed to use his magic for good. Even after leaving the wizarding world Father Brown still found use for his magic, although he used it infrequently. For retrieving and repairing destroyed letters, unlocking drawers etc, it made investigating much easier. And some days, when he needed to think without being disturbed or suspicious.

He scribbled a quick note, alerting Mrs McCarthy (a very talented, if somewhat uncomfortable about using magic witch) of his plans, then muttered the incantation. He felt the familiar rush and uncomfortable squeezing sensation, but it was over within seconds. Where he had been standing, he was now on his desk, in his animagi form; a barn owl. Elegant faun coloured wings, soft white stomach and darker than usual rings around the eyes, almost like glasses. Checking nobody was about, he fluttered out the window and glided over the rooftops, heading for the surrounding fields and woods. It was wonderful, gliding about, not having to worry about sermons or reputations. He could soar to the skies and feel himself get a little closer to God. It was also very useful for observing things, and he’d spent several nights perched out in the woods, watching people try to hide their crimes. . He gave a happy hoot and dove down, brushing the ears of wheat slightly. The sun had only just set, and he had a whole night to have some fun.

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Mrs McCarthy gave a sigh as she checked the mouse traps in the church. All of them were empty, but the rodents were running riot. They had somehow worked out how to retrieve the food from the traps without setting them off and were pushing her to her wits end. They were causing serious damage in the church and someone had spotted a mouse during the WI meeting earlier in the week (to her shame and embarrassment). What she really could do with would be some magic, but her personal morals were horrified by this idea. What if someone caught her? How could she explain herself waving a wand around the church with mice floating in the air? Her grandmother would be ashamed of her, using her magic for something so trivial at such a risk. So she had vowed to sort the problem the muggle way, unsuccessfully. She sat down, rather unceremoniously, on a pew and scowled at the traps and box of poison. Completely and utterly useless, how did muggles cope with them for so long?

A gnawing sound above her head caught her attention. The little devils were nibbling the rafters! The roof was already in a sorry state, and id would not do for the roof of house of God to collapse due to some pesky vermin. God had given her the power to do great things, and one of those things was going to be fixing this. But she still ran the risk of being caught. Unless… Would she dare do it? If caught no one would suspect a thing. But she hadn’t done it for several months, and only in the comfort of her home and the presbytery. And even if she did, she might need more help. Perhaps Lady Felicia? No, she was even less likely to help her demouse the church in animagus form than normal. It was irritating, this was the kind of job she would be useful for. Maybe the Father? As an owl he’d be incredibly useful for this, but he was out and he would probably favour the muggle method over magic to solve this problem. 

The chewing sound got louder and that was the final straw for Mrs McCarthy. A quick flick of the wand and a stout grey tabby was perched on the pew, its sharp blue eyes narrowed in determination. There was a surprised and scared squeak under the pew and the cat lunged.

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Sid hadn’t been a practicing wizard for very long. Like a large chunk of muggleborns his magical education had been missed completely due to evacuation and disruption from the war. Sid had always known he was a bit different though; he remembered making a bucket full of water suddenly become bone dry at bath times, or the holes in his coat mysteriously vanish. However, unlike most muggleborns when Sid was evacuated, the people who took him in were from the wizarding world. Under Father Brown and Mrs McCarthy’s watchful eyes and tutoring, and some old spell books he soon had a basic wizarding education. One of the things he’d been desperate to do was become an animagus, and two months ago he finally did it. To the Father’s amusement and Mrs McCarthy’s disapproval he often spent his evening prowling through Kembleford, causing a little chaos and doing some snooping on the way (it was incredible what some people threw away, particularly if they were guilty of something). 

This particular evening he was doing detective work: raid the Parker farm bins and rubbish heaps for anything suspicious or could be linked to Doctor Grey’s murder. The Father had planned to go with him, but Mrs McCarthy was funny about transforming and suspected they were going to do something, which made things more difficult, so Sid was going alone. He trotted up the driveway, catching a glance at himself in a puddle. Sleek orange coat, bushy tail and black paws and muzzle, he was a devilishly good looking fox, if he said so himself. However farmers seemed to disagree, and often took out a shot gun once the saw him. So he was determined to avoid that scenario. He followed the smell of decay and grimaced upon finding the rubbish heap. It was huge, and he had to rummage through it. Taking a deep breath he started.

After an hour of futile searching he found something. A knife, wrapped in a tea towel, soaked in blood. Sid had seen and smelt animal blood, he’d been hunting a couple of times in his fox form. This was definitely human. Feeling triumphant, but disgusted he gingerly picked it up in his mouth and turned to leave. Unfortunately in his pride at his discovery, he didn’t see the stack of crates and went straight into them, knocking them over and making a massive crashing noise. This proceeded to set the chickens in their coop into a frenzy and he saw the farmhouse lights flick on, a door open and a gun click. Now was one of those times he was glad foxes were very, very fast.

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Lady Felicia Montague was a very distinguished and elegant person, as many people would tell you. She was glad that came across in her animagus form; a white Persian cat, with long, well groomed fur. She was also grateful that it was dark, so no one could see her current predicament. Halfway up a tree, fur a mess, claws embedded in the bark and frantically hissing, she looked positively feral, although it was justified. The terrier below her reminded her of this, his yips and whines pushing her further up. This dog, she thought bitterly, had to belong to the wife of some duke who was a friend of Monty’s who she was currently hosting. Apparently she went nowhere without it, so they had to bring it along, which hadn’t made their visit any less difficult.

Felicia just wanted to relax in the best way she knew, by transforming and abandoning all her duties for a few hours. She’d been careful, waited until it was late and dark before transforming and sneaking out. It had all gone swimmingly, until she was on the middle of the lawn and heard a snarling sound, and seen that mutt charge towards her, forcing her to the nearest tree possible. But she couldn’t stay up here forever. A particularly loud and close bark made her jump and she skidded down a foot closer to the dog. She was almost within its range, she didn’t know if she could fight it. If necessary she could transform again, but what’s to say it’d stop its attack because she was human? How would she get back in and explain her injuries? She gave another long, pitiful meow, praying someone would hear and bring the dog in. She slipped again, hissing before she was sent flying as the dog knocked her off the tree (luckily cats land on their feet). The terrier lowered itself to jump and gave an excited howl and launched itself at her-

A deep bark filled the air and something leapt out of the bushes and tackled the terrier. Felicia used this distraction to get back up a safer tree and watched. Her saviour was a large Alsatian, with a short neat coat. He had more black than brown patches, which had help him hide in the bushes. The terrier was snapping and snarling at the Alsatian, but he was large enough to pose a threat to the terrier, and eventually he scarpered. He promptly sat down, waiting for her. Warily she clambered down and padded towards the dog, who was sitting quite proudly, almost like he was on parade. As a token of her gratitude, she rubbed herself against his legs, smirking internally as she felt him stiffen and try to stop his tail wagging, before waltzing back to the house. She took one last glance before she went in and he was gone. Felicia transformed and headed upstairs, smiling to herself.

She’d have to thank the Inspector properly tomorrow.


End file.
